Hide and Seek
by LochnessPhoenix
Summary: Haunted by visions and dreams, George struggles to move on after losing a part of himself. HP7 Spoilers.
1. Learning to Cope

Time flew rather quickly. Or slowly. He couldn't tell anymore. The last few weeks passed by in such a jumbled blur that nothing made sense anymore.

He remembered Hogwarts. He remembered standing next to his brother, then standing next to Oliver. And flashes of red light. And green. And the occasional flicker of blue. And then screams, and silence, and whispers. And his cold, lifeless brother sprawled out on the Great Hall floor, or what was left of it.

For the rest of that night, he wanted nothing more than to sit next to his fallen brother and make sure nothing else would happen to him, for all the fighting to be over. And for an instant he wished that he could lie next to him and stare with him up for one last time at the starry, bewitched sky that mesmerized the two of them for so many years.

'Isn't it odd?' he imagined himself saying, 'How it's dark everywhere, and yet those stars keep glistening? It's like they're being hopeful for us. Like they know it can't be dark forever.'

'Yeah. I guess Trelawney knew something we didn't all along,' Fred would've said. 'Always saying "It's in the stars! Oooooooooh".' He chuckled a bit. 'Crazy bat.'

'Yeah.'

A slight grin formed on George's face, but then he shut his eyes quickly, to stop himself from tearing up. He needed to stop doing this to himself. It couldn't be healthy.

'Healthy?' he thought to himself. 'Wasn't that something mum, or Pomfrey, always worried about?'

'Hey, we kept Pomfrey busy, we did!' Fred would say. 'If it wasn't for us, she would've been bored out of her mind!'

George smiled. 'I remember her saying, "Always's something new with you boys, isn't it?".'

'Remember when we were first years? And we tried doing that memory charm on each other?'

'The one so we could remember books word for word so we wouldn't need to study as much for test?'

Fred would nod. 'And since we did the charm on each other…'

'… at the same time…'

'… something went wrong…'

'… and we went unconscious.' George started laughing. 'And since Pomfrey couldn't tell which of us was which…'

'… she made those signs over our beds that read, "Fred or George?".' Fred would've smiled. 'I think she knew since then that she was in for trouble with the two of us.'

'Yeah,' George thought. 'The two of us.'

His eyes began to water, so he shut them quickly, but that wasn't enough to stop one, lone tear from falling onto the floor.

A/N- I haven't written anything like this in such a long time. Please read and review. This isn't really the first chapter, more like an introduction, but I think this gives a good idea of the vibe that I'm going for with the rest of the story. I don't intend for this story to be particularly long; maybe 3 or 4 more chapters after this. Let me know what you think of it. Any type of review is appreciated.


	2. Dusty Trick Wands

His mind was numb as he slid his hand into his pocket, retrieved his wand, and jammed it into the keyhole, muttering an incoherent strand of words that only he and his brother knew.

Words that only he knew.

The door swung open violently, revealing the dusty remnants of the once-popular "Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes." Although it had been months since he had been in there, nothing had changed. The windows were still boarded up. The shelves and counters were still covered by tied-up sheets.

He flicked his wand and the candles lit up, the flames above them twisting and twirling with the sort of energetic passion he had not seen, nor felt, in weeks.

He ripped down the sheets from the shelves and allowed himself to examine what had been concealed behind it. There were boxes and bins of varying sizes and colors, all stacked up in a somewhat disorderly array. Each pile had a label in front of it written in handwriting he immediately recognized to be his own.

As he looked over the Skiving Snackboxes, trick wands, and bewitched quills that lined the shelves, he felt a mixed twinge of pride and pain. Turning his gaze away from them, he thought about how these products had made so many people happy, and how they now failed to do the same for him.

A part of him wanted to leave the store just as it was; a sort of monument to the work and time he and Fred had devoted to what they loved. Of course, the other part of him knew it would be best to re-open the store. Start over again. Keep going on as if nothing had ever happened.

He stood in the center of the store and debated whether or not he should go look in the storage room. He knew what was back there, and feared that seeing those things again would force him to regress. It had taken him weeks to gather up the nerve to come to the store at all…

'What the hell! Nothing back there works, anyway! Why are you letting a bunch of rubbish control your life?'

He took a deep breath and walked through the curtain blocking the back room. He lit the candles and looked around the room, letting waves of memories crash through his mind.

On one side of the room were stacks of shield cloaks, gloves and hats that he and Fred had failed to send to the Ministry before Voldemort took control of it. They always regretted leaving their stash of defensive items in the store, but George knew in the back of his mind that they wouldn't have made much of a difference.

'These things would fall apart in the presence of an Unforgivable curse,' he thought to himself. Still, a part of him wondered…

'No. Nothing could've been done.' He shut the thought out of his mind and turned his face towards the other side of the room…

He saw the large, wooden table he and his brother had spent so many late hours hunched over, coming up with ideas for new products. Under its light coating of dust was a myriad of projects they had once worked on. Some of the projects were already finished, some half-finished, and the rest were deemed 'impossible to complete' and lay in a pile on the far left corner.

'This stuff isn't all rubbish,' he thought to himself as he picked up a small, round object off the table. He cupped it in his hand for several seconds and dropped it onto the floor. He let it lay there for only a moment before extending his cupped hand directly over it; it flew right back into his palm.

'The homing bead. Attach it to any object and you'll never have to bend down to pick it up again.'

'Perfect for quills, books, toys, and small pets,' George thought to himself; a smile slowly crept onto his face.

'Just remember to hold it in your hand before attaching it to anything.'

'Or it won't know who to go to.' George examined the bead for a few more seconds before flicking the bead out of his palm with his nose, deactivating it.

He rifled through the rubbish pile and remembered how he and Fred had spent hours working on each item, constantly debating over how each project should be done.

'Maybe if we _transfigure_ little gnomes into each one, it'll work,' George recalled Fred telling him one late night. He was sitting next to Fred, who was slouching in his chair and tapping his wand on the table.

'That would never work!' George remembered telling him. 'Imagine what a box full of little gnomes would do to each other!'

'… and the box. I mean, they would tear it to shreds.' Fred smiled at the thought, but quickly went back to thinking.

They both sat in silence, staring at an old ring box, before Fred perked up. 'We could put dead ones in there…'

'They would rot.'

'Anti-rotting charm?'

George looked at Fred for a few moments. 'Might as well just put them to sleep. But then again, who knows how long they'd be on the shelves?'

'We could put an expiration date on them.' George thought about this for only a moment before Fred sat up in his chair, looking defeated. 'Alright! This is a bad idea!' He tossed the small box into the rubbish pile. George watched him as he slumped back into his chair, letting out a big sigh and staring at the pile.

'I kind of liked the idea.' George grinned sheepishly, turning to face his brother. 'I mean, who wouldn't like giving their sister a box full of gnomes?'

Fred looked back at him, a triumphant smile returning to his face. 'My thoughts exactly…'

A/N- Next chapter should be up in a bit. That one will probably be longer, and show George's relationship with his family, and have some kind of _vocal _dialogue instead of just thoughts and memories. Please review; I'll take negative feedback, as well. And also, thank you to everyone that reviewed so far. I hope you found this chapter to be satisfactory.


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